“Later never exists.” Anonymous
When we are young we think that we have all the time in the world and we want all that we can get out of life. We want to do it all and we want to do it right now. Time stretches before us and we have plans and dreams to fill up that time. As we get older we think I don’t have to do that now, I have time. I can put this off until tomorrow. I don’t have to do this right now it will wait.
Life has a way though of reminding you that no you don’t have all the time in the world. On this day ten years ago a phone call came that changed my life forever. Dad had been out planting a bush and keeled over and was dead of a massive heart attack before he hit the ground. Suddenly all the things that he and I had talked about doing were no longer possible. We had run out of time.
Dad was passionate about genealogy and traced his family tree and Mom’s with enthusiasm. He told me once that I was the only one of the five children who shared his enthusiasm and we planned on my coming back out to Indiana so he could teach me what he had learned and where he was going with his studies. It didn’t happen. One month before my move back to the Midwest his heart gave out. I have a file cabinet full of papers and names and dates that I have no idea where they go and where they connect in Dad’s studies.
I was Dad’s only girl and I think more then anything else I amused him. With my temper and passion for drama and my love of performing and all things science fiction I was not your typical daughter. I played football and baseball with him.
I remember the sighs he heaved when I would tell him about picketing the Archbishop of Portland. He listened to my stories of my political activity throughout my college time. He shook his head and wrote long philosophical letters when I would ask for his opinion on the politics of campus. He read all the college newspapers that I sent home that I had worked on. He encouraged me and cautioned me at the same time. I remember his worry when I got involved in politics and trying to get a sane gun law passed. He was proud of me and scared that his reckless daughter would be hurt. I use to wonder what Dad really thought of the activism of my youth. He wasn’t always the best at letting you know his feelings. The fact that he relished telling my niece all about my college years and telling her with pride gave me my answer.
In the last few years I have gone back to the political activism of my youth. I realize now that I don’t have all the time in the world. My niece has gotten into the same sort of activism that I have because I was always her role model in life. I was hers as my Dad’s older sister Hazel was mine.
My mother has said as she watched the paramedics trying to revive my Dad that she knew he was gone. We don’t often see butterflies here but a butterfly landed on the bush my Dad had been planting. My Mom has said that she knew then that Dad was at peace. In these last ten years when I am feeling the most down I have seen Monarch butterflies and know the peace Mom talked about.
Dad died ten years ago today and as much as I miss him I am comforted by the fact that on this morning ten years ago he had an email from me letting him know I loved him. He always read his email first thing in the morning. I had also spoken to him the day before. He died knowing he was loved. We didn’t have all the time together that we hoped for but we made the time we had together count.
We don’t have all the time in the world. I learned that ten years ago today. Each of us in our own way needs to do what we can to help make this world a better place and we need to do it now. We also need to make sure we connect now with family and friends and let them know we love them. Time is precious and we need to use it well.
When we are young we think that we have all the time in the world and we want all that we can get out of life. We want to do it all and we want to do it right now. Time stretches before us and we have plans and dreams to fill up that time. As we get older we think I don’t have to do that now, I have time. I can put this off until tomorrow. I don’t have to do this right now it will wait.
Life has a way though of reminding you that no you don’t have all the time in the world. On this day ten years ago a phone call came that changed my life forever. Dad had been out planting a bush and keeled over and was dead of a massive heart attack before he hit the ground. Suddenly all the things that he and I had talked about doing were no longer possible. We had run out of time.
Dad was passionate about genealogy and traced his family tree and Mom’s with enthusiasm. He told me once that I was the only one of the five children who shared his enthusiasm and we planned on my coming back out to Indiana so he could teach me what he had learned and where he was going with his studies. It didn’t happen. One month before my move back to the Midwest his heart gave out. I have a file cabinet full of papers and names and dates that I have no idea where they go and where they connect in Dad’s studies.
I was Dad’s only girl and I think more then anything else I amused him. With my temper and passion for drama and my love of performing and all things science fiction I was not your typical daughter. I played football and baseball with him.
I remember the sighs he heaved when I would tell him about picketing the Archbishop of Portland. He listened to my stories of my political activity throughout my college time. He shook his head and wrote long philosophical letters when I would ask for his opinion on the politics of campus. He read all the college newspapers that I sent home that I had worked on. He encouraged me and cautioned me at the same time. I remember his worry when I got involved in politics and trying to get a sane gun law passed. He was proud of me and scared that his reckless daughter would be hurt. I use to wonder what Dad really thought of the activism of my youth. He wasn’t always the best at letting you know his feelings. The fact that he relished telling my niece all about my college years and telling her with pride gave me my answer.
In the last few years I have gone back to the political activism of my youth. I realize now that I don’t have all the time in the world. My niece has gotten into the same sort of activism that I have because I was always her role model in life. I was hers as my Dad’s older sister Hazel was mine.
My mother has said as she watched the paramedics trying to revive my Dad that she knew he was gone. We don’t often see butterflies here but a butterfly landed on the bush my Dad had been planting. My Mom has said that she knew then that Dad was at peace. In these last ten years when I am feeling the most down I have seen Monarch butterflies and know the peace Mom talked about.
Dad died ten years ago today and as much as I miss him I am comforted by the fact that on this morning ten years ago he had an email from me letting him know I loved him. He always read his email first thing in the morning. I had also spoken to him the day before. He died knowing he was loved. We didn’t have all the time together that we hoped for but we made the time we had together count.
We don’t have all the time in the world. I learned that ten years ago today. Each of us in our own way needs to do what we can to help make this world a better place and we need to do it now. We also need to make sure we connect now with family and friends and let them know we love them. Time is precious and we need to use it well.
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